


PAPERS PLEASE: WARMTH IN WINTER

by digory__dot



Category: Papers Please (Video Game)
Genre: 18+, AU, Alternate Universe, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gay, M/M, Medium Burn, Mostly Fluff, NSFW, OC, Smut, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, i havent written the smut parts yet but itll come, ongoing, very small amount of angst but its there just a heads up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-02-12 13:19:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21477025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digory__dot/pseuds/digory__dot
Summary: A fic about the growing relationship between the inspector and Sergiu.Differences in this AU: The inspector has a name, more of a character and talks more. He is also trans and doesn't live with a family. Sergiu never met Elisa. And other minor things.I'm not looking for critiques so don't give any because I won't care, I write for fun.Also keep in mind I write all of these at around 2am-5am.
Relationships: inspector (papers please)/sergiu volda, inspector/sergiu
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	1. CH 1: DAY ONE

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting a fanfiction here.  
Hope I don't screw it up.  
Cw for this chapter:  
\- Profanity

**CH 1: DAY ONE**

Of course, it wasn't day one for the current Arstotzkan Checkpoint's inspector. He trudged over to his station, not even paying any mind to the man standing outside and waiting for him to get inside his office.   
It's been several weeks since the inspector's name was drawn from the Labor Lottery and he was placed into this job, but he doesn't really think he'll ever get used to waking up so early. The crack of dawn he had to get to work, it was such a slog.  
The inspector sat down in his chair and read the latest note from the M.O.A. (Ministry of Admission, the people who made the rules that the inspector had to follow) while pulling out the rule book he used to detect discrepancies in people's papers.  
Someone walks into the inspectors station on the other side of the glass, that very same someone that was waiting for the inspector to go in.  
"Hello," the man behind the glass said, his voice deep but kind sounding.  
The inspector glanced up from the M.O.A. note and looked at him.  
It was someone he hadn't seen before in a green security guard's uniform, he must be new. He looked middle aged, had dark hair, baggy narrow eyes and a pleasant looking resting face.  
"Hello," the inspector greeted back to him in a blunt tone and went back to looking through his papers.  
"I heard that you are from Nirsk?" the man asked "I grew up there but I have not been back in many years."  
"It is still a shit-hole, as before," the inspector said without missing a beat or looking up.  
The security guard let out a short but genuine laugh "Of course, this is what I remember too."  
The inspector couldn't help but smile at the sound of his laugh. Quite the feat, making the inspector smile on the job.  
"I am Sergiu," the security guard said "it is good to meet you."  
The inspector looked up, slight smile still on his lips "I am Dimyan, it is good to meet you as well."  
Sergiu casually saluted Dimyan before walking out of the booth "I will do my best to keep you safe."  
Dimyan took the positivity of that interaction and rode with it through his entire work day, for it was the only positive thing to happen to him in this hellish place.


	2. CH 2: WEIRD WINTER WEATHER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for this chapter:  
\- terrorist mention  
\- gun mention  
\- profanity  
\- war mention

**CH 2: WEIRD WINTER WEATHER**

It had been about two days since Sergiu and Dimyan had introduced themselves to each other, but one day after a terrorist had infiltrated the checkpoint. None of the security guards were able to get a shot at them. Dimyan had no prior experience with shooting, but it seemed with a bit of focus and a lot of luck he managed to take a shot at the terrorist and land a hit with the tranquilizer gun provided by the M.O.A. a few days back.  
The air was surprisingly brisk and pleasant today, Dimyan only had to wear a light coat for sufficient warmth. Despite the weather he was still a bit shaken up by yesterday, he tried not to think about it too much.  
Dimyan walked to his station, Sergiu was waiting just outside the exit. Instead of going inside his office and having Sergiu follow, Dimyan decided to speak with Sergiu outside, not something he often does but he supposed he would like to enjoy the refreshing air on his skin before starting his long day.  
"Do you need something, Sergiu?" Dimyan asked.  
Sergiu's eyes lit up and he took a few steps towards Dimyan "goodmorning," he greeted first and foremost.  
Dimyan gave him a nod "goodmorning,"  
Sergiu clasped his hands together "thank you for yesterday, inspector," he said, his voice with a hint of embarrassment mixed with his gratitude "my aim, i-is not like before."  
Dimyan stood up straight looking at Sergiu and put a hand on his own hip, dawning a sideways frown "seems I will have to do _my_ best to keep _you_ safe." he said in a blunt tone.  
"Ehh..." Sergiu didn't know what to say.  
Dimyan let out a sharp breath through his nose and smiled smugly "I am just busting balls, Sergiu. It is fine," Dimyan started walking towards his office door "I get good bonus for shooting."  
"Oh!" Sergiu let out a short abrupt laugh "you got me. I am glad it works out. This checkpoint, most action I have seen since war in Kolechia,"  
The two go their separate ways for the day and carry out their jobs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6pm finally crawled its way onto the clock, it was time to go home.  
Dimyan took a step outside, stretching his legs as the evenings darkness surrounded him. Much to Dimyan's disappointment and dismay, that pleasant briskness from this morning had hardened into icy cold air, back to typical Arstotzka. Dimyan held his arms in his hands and let out a shivery breath which was visible due to the temperature. He knew he should've at least _brought_ his winter coat with him. He had more hope in this world than he even thought and the world still swindled it. How cruel.  
He began his trudge back to his apartment when he saw someone walking towards him in the darkness. The work day was over, no one ever tried to talk to him after the work day is over. He wasn't looking forward to this.  
When Sergiu's face got clearer as he walked closer to Dimyan a wave of relief washed over him, he'd hate to even fathom doing anything work related after his 12 hour shift had ended, surely Sergiu just wanted to chat.  
"Hello, inspector," Sergiu waved and walked beside Dimyan, smiling "I hope your day was good, yes?"  
Dimyan nodded "yes," he says plainly, rubbing his own shoulders "uneventful." he looked over at Sergiu for a few moments, then quickly looked away, instinctively knitting his brow. Dimyan was astonishly shorter than Sergiu - at least by 30 centimeters, he had never noticed before. He supposed it made sense since Sergiu was a soldier and all...

Sergiu let out a short hum, oblivious to Dimyan's inner tallness turmoil "yes, uneventful is good for me too," Sergiu looked down at Dimyan "there is something I want to ask."

"Yes?"  
"You look and sound young," Sergiu kept his eyes forward as they walked "if you do not mind me saying,"  
Dimyan quirked an eyebrow up at Sergiu "...yes?" was he thinking that this entire time? It was odd to Dimyan that he would bring this up now.  
"ah...well, I was just wondering your age?" Sergiu finally got to the point.  
"Thirty-six," Dimyan stated.  
"Thirty-six!" Sergiu echoed in a much more surprised tone "seems I am young one then, thirty-one."  
"Not by much," Dimyan said.  
"Not by much." Sergiu nodded and echoed again in a quiet but satisfied sounding voice.  
The two of them stopped and faced each other at the crossroad between the train station and the bus stop.  
"Was good talking to you, inspector," Sergiu held his hand out to be shaken.  
Dimyan shook his hand, it was much warmer in comparison to his own "good talking to you too, Sergiu,"  
"God!" Sergiu suddenly exclaimed "your hand is like icicle! Are you not wearing a coat?"  
Dimyan took his hand away and rubbed it as if it would help anything "...was warmer this morning,"  
Sergiu took off his winter jacket and handed it to Dimyan "here, my apartment much closer than yours and jacket is warmed up for you,"  
Dimyan paused and stared at the jacket, then at Sergiu "what about you?"  
"I will be fine, my friend, I do not want you to catch flu,"  
Dimyan looked at the jacket again, then took it, it was warm to the touch as advertised "Th...thank you," Dimyan didn't quite know what to say other than that, which seemed to be enough.  
"Not a problem!" Sergiu started to turn to walk away towards the bus station "my friend, I will see you tomorrow."  
Dimyan waved goodbye and put on the coat, letting out a breath of relief he didn't even know he was holding in.  
It smelt like flowery soap.


	3. CH 3: IT IS SNIFFLE SEASON

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure when I should post the chapters, as of now I have just one more other than this one to post.  
Maybe weekly? I'm not sure. This fic has two hits and no kudos so maybe no one would care loool
> 
> CW for this chapter:  
\- character getting startled  
\- profanity  
\- descriptions of being sick (not detailed)  
\- medicine mention

"Are you wearing perfume?"  
Dimyan looked up from the papers he was looking over to look at the entrant on the other side of the glass. The clock had already chimed for his shift to be over but he took his time checking this woman's passport so that he wouldn't get a citation.  
"It smells like cheap fake flower smell in here," The entrant said.  
Dimyan looked back down at the entrant's passport "I am borrowing friends clothes, not my choice of smell," Dimyan stamped the entrant's passport and handed it back to her.  
"Borrow friends clothes? Government should pay more if you are having to do that," the entrant took the passport and the rest of her papers, then said under her breath "and friend should get new laundry soap..."  
Dimyan waited a few moments until he stopped hearing her footsteps, then took the collar of the coat and held it up to his nose.  
_Snff..._  
It smelt quite nice to him, actually.  
_Snnffff..._  
He wasn't sure why, it certainly did smell cheap and fake but...

_Snnnnnffffff,_  
"Do you like the smell?"  
"_FUCK!_" Dimyan nearly fell out of his seat, he was so startled by the sudden voice.  
"Ah! My friend, it is only me!" Sergiu tried to suppress a smile at Dimyan's reaction but he was doing a very poor job at it. His voice sounded nasallier than usual, it was a bit hard to recognize at first.  
Dimyan tried to catch his breath, holding his hand to his upper chest area as it deeply went up and down "Sergiu, you scared me..!" he avoided eye contact as he started to realize the situation "...how long were you standing there?"  
"Two sniffs ago," Sergiu laughed.  
Dimyan's mouth twitched, he felt his face get warm.  
"Friend, do not worry about it," Sergiu waved a dismissive hand and sniffled "it is actually quite flattering,"  
"Did you get sick?" Dimyan changed the subject but was also genuinely concerned.  
Sergiu smiled sweetly "I am fine," he simply puts "just sniffles...but different type of sniffles than you, it would seem."  
A smile curled on Dimyan's face "fair enough," but then it faded into a concerned look. Dimyan reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a 5 credit bill. He slid it under the papers slot "this should pay for medicine," he got up out of his chair and opened the door to walk outside.  
"Ah," before Sergiu could respond, Dimyan was outside, Sergiu followed quickly after, credit bill in hand "Dimyan, you really do not have to-"  
Dimyan stopped walking and stared at Sergiu with a piercing serious expression "there is no debate," he states "...it is my fault you got flu-"  
"It is just sniffles," Sergiu reassured.  
"Well, it is my fault you got sniffles, then," Dimyan uselessly corrected himself "you get medicine with the money, ok?"  
Sergiu figured there really was no debating Dimyan, he reluctantly nods "thank you,"  
"Do not mention it- oh and," Dimyan started to take Sergiu's coat off of himself "your coat,"  
Sergiu smiled warmly "keep it,"  
"...what?"  
"You seem to like it, and M.O.A. provides extras, no harm done," Sergiu gave Dimyan a reassuring pat on the shoulder.  
Dimyan smiled at the nice gesture "you are very kind to me, Sergiu,"  
"As are you to me, Dimyan, I will see you tomorrow."

BONUS ART:


	4. CH 4: TWO SHOTS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter has a huge toneal change from the previous one, the Arstotzka checkpoint truly is an unpredictable place!)  
CW for this chapter:  
\- Terrorist mention  
\- Explosion mention  
\- Gun (and shooting) mention  
\- Grotesque descriptions of violence  
\- Alcohol mention  
\- Short description of an asthma attack  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Holy shit dat hiatus tho
> 
> I'm so sorry for leaving for so long while keeping the 'ongoing' tag on there, that was a bit of a dick move even if it wasn't intentional.
> 
> I wrote this chapter Nov 18, 2019 and for some reason didn't post it
> 
> Of course, though, I'm going to continue this fic. I never expected it to get any attention and I was so shocked to see so many kudos, thank you all. It might not be much in a more popular users eyes but just seeing that anyone liked my fic enough to leave a sign of appreciation made me want to continue it. 
> 
> <3

After shooting both terrorists with the only two bullets left in his tranquilizer gun and a few moments of checking if the coast was clear, Dimyan collapsed his head onto his desk. Dimyan's breathing was harsh in his chest, the two terrorists nearly got to the guards...luckily both of the shots were hits. Dimyan shakily reached into his pant pocket and took out his inhaler, lifting his sweaty face up from the desk and wrapping his quivering lips around the nosel, taking a sizely puff.  
He didn't freak out like this the last terrorist attack, he wasn't sure why this one got to him so much. Maybe because of how nerve wrackingly close the two of them got to the guards and how the bombs strapped to them bursted into a fiery explosion upon impact with the bullets. Any closer and they could've killed the guards. They could've killed Sergiu.  
Dimyan took a minute or two for himself, sitting in his office alone with his head in his hands, trying to maintain composure and a steady breath.  
Someone walked into the booth on the other side of the glass, only their silhouette was seen due to the blinds still being down.  
"Dimyan?" it was Sergiu.  
"..." Dimyan didn't want to speak. He was sure his voice would be shaky, he didn't want Sergiu to hear him like that.  
"You have not come out for quite some time. There are no more terrorists, my friend," a hint of happiness was in Sergiu's tone "you very skillfully shot them!"  
"..."  
"...are you okay?"  
"...yes..." Dimyan's voice was raspy and barely audible, but audible enough to hear.  
"Oh...my friend," it seemed Sergiu heard all of Dimyan's worries in that one word "you take as much time as needed. I will wait outside for you when ready," Sergiu left the booth.  
Dimyan brought one of his hands to his forehead as the other hand flopped down on the desk. He wiped the sweat from his face and let out a breath, which was significantly less shaky than before, he was ready. Or at least ready as he'd ever be, he figured.  
He opened the door to the outside, it smelt like burnt meat and metal. He took a step out the door and just as promised Sergiu was there. He was okay.  
Dimyan wanted to so badly embrace him, but didn't want to intrude his personal space.  
Sergiu had his signature kind smile on his lips, he walked to Dimyan's side and put his arm around Dimyan's shoulder "you did great, Dimyan," he said quietly.  
The two of them walked down the checkpoint. It was a silent walk other than the sounds of their footsteps on the pavement. It felt long, especially as the two of them passed the smoldering ashes of what once were two people with bombs strapped to them. The smell was pugnant, Sergiu gave Dimyan's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they passed by. Or perhaps the squeeze was because the smell was just that unbearable. Dimyan kept his face down, staring at the ground beneath him.  
After what seemed like forever, the two of them stopped at the crossroads.  
"Dimyan?" Sergiu said, his voice still quiet.  
"Yes?" Dimyan had regained his composer pretty much fully by now, seeing Sergiu okay and even calm despite the situation certainly helped.  
The two of them now faced each other, Sergiu put his other hand on Dimyan's free shoulder "please let me buy you drink at bar, I feel we both need one after such bad day."  
Dimyan let out a hard but slow breath through his nose "okay," he says, then nudges Sergiu in the stomach "you surely owe me one!"  
Sergiu held his own stomach lightly in his palms let out a loud laugh "I do, I do," he let go of Dimyan's shoulders and they both walked towards the bus station "I truly do."


	5. CH 5: A BIT MORE THAN TWO SHOTS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dimyan: Two shots of vodka [pours bottle for a minute straight]
> 
> Cw for this chapter:  
\- Alcohol drinking
> 
> I'm pretty sure that's it...enjoy!

Dimyan and Sergiu made their way onto the crowded bus, both having to hold onto the one free poll not already handled by a stranger. It was the end of the day, it was bound to be this crowded, it’s something every Arstotzkan is accustomed to.

Dimyan was sandwiched between some taller person behind him with their back turned and the side of Sergiu’s body, his cheek almost pressing into Sergiu. Dimyan clutched the poll tightly as if that would help the ride go any faster. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable, in fact, he was hoping that  _ Sergiu _ wasn’t uncomfortable. He’s really grown to care about Sergiu, as it was very evident that Sergiu had grown to care about Dimyan. Though with care comes worry that the other isn’t happy.

But Sergiu was neutral, simply waiting for their stop like the rest of the bus riders. He didn’t even bat an eye at the lack of space between him and Dimyan, maybe it even made him feel a bit cozy.

Their stop had finally come, the two men stepped out of the bus along with a crowd of random Arstotzkans. Dimyan involuntarily let out a large breath, the air of the city was horrid but better than what the bus had to offer.

“Are you okay?” Sergiu asked politely, looking over to his friend with his warm resting face.

“Was hot as hell in there, I am glad we are out,” Dimyan absentmindedly said, stretching his short limbs. He didn’t mind all that much but he’ll take any chance he could get to complain about what conditions the world dishes out to him.

Sergiu smiled sweetly “well, let’s pray the atmosphere in the bar is more bearable for you,” he gingerly touched his hand to Dimyan’s back and led him a few buildings past from where the bus dropped them off.

Sergiu was being so careful with Dimyan this evening, what with the events that just transpired minutes ago. Dimyan appreciated it more than anything, it really seemed to him that Sergiu was one of the only good things this Earth had. To be gentle is a foreign concept in Arstotzka, and Dimyan didn’t mind that change of pace whatsoever.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Bottle of vodka, please,” Dimyan said to the bartender, slipping a 5 credit note onto the bar’s table.

Sergiu looked at the credit with very slight annoyance and with two fingers slid it back towards Dimyan, then smiling and handing the bartender his own 5 credit note.

The bartender shrugged and went to go fetch the bottle and some glasses.

“I am the one who owes you, Dimyan,” Sergiu explained before Dimyan got any sort of chance to protest against Sergiu paying.

Dimyan smiled, fidgeting with his work hat in his hand (not out of anxiety but just to keep his hands occupied). “Force of habit,” Dimyan admitted, clearing up his reasoning behind attempting to pay for the drink “fine by me if you pay, rent has gone up this month,”

Sergiu couldn’t help but chuckle at Dimyan’s casual and blunt nature, it was uniquely charming to him “as is the way of Arstotzka,” he said.

The two men sat beside each other at the bar, the stools weren’t the most comfortable thing to sit on in the world but it was good enough for both of them. They looked over their shoulders to speak to each other, but occasionally spoke towards some aimless direction as to not put much strain on their necks. They both were still donning their work uniform other than their hats in which Sergiu shoved in his own coat pocket and Dimyan held in his warm palms (though he could have also shoved it in his pocket too, as he was wearing the winter coat that Sergiu had lent to him the other day)

The bartender pulled up two shot glasses and a bottle of cheap vodka, setting them on the table and walking away to fulfill the orders of other guests in the establishment.

“Can you handle this stuff?” Sergiu asked with a surprising amount of genuine curiosity in a question that’s typically full of smugness.

“I like it,” Dimyan explained “works fast,”

“You have got that right,” Sergiu laughed, a twinge of nervousness in his tone “I hardly drink harsher liquors,”

Dimyan had already begun to pour the two of them a shot glass full of vodka “well, tonight is a special occasion,” he nodded, holding up the tiny glass in his hand.

Sergiu followed him in that action, the glass looked nearly microscopic in his hand comparitably to Dimyan’s “you are very right! You have saved my life again, Dimyan, for that I’m very grateful, and you are very good company otherwise,” he grinned widely, his smiling cheeks pushed up his eyes so that they were practically closed.

Dimyan’s heart skipped a beat at Sergiu’s words, he felt his face soften and perhaps even his heart too “you too, my friend,” 

“To life!”

“To life,”

They both clinked their glasses together and downed the vodka, Sergiu immediately began to gag at the stinging sensation from the drink. 

Dimyan patted his back “you have got this, Sergiu,”

“Th-thank you,” Sergiu said between coughs. The coughs died down a few moments after “ahah, I’m already beginning to feel warm,”

“Yes, works fast,” Dimyan repeated, pouring himself another glass but not pouring for Sergiu, he didn’t want to seem like he was forcing him to drink it.

But Sergiu felt obliged, not that it was a terrible situation to be obliged to, he could use the extra tolerance he might gain from drinking a few shots anyway.

They drank in synchronization.

Sergiu gagged again, but not nearly as horribly as before. Dimyan also let out a cough, his head already felt fuzzy.

Dimyan’s shorter stature allowed for him to get drunk much faster than the average man, he absolutely used that to his advantage.

~~~~~~~~~~

“and that Vonel person’s mustache and sunglasses, they are so, so stupid,” Dimyan drunkily slurs, continuing to ramble on in some menial conversation “he intimidates me, I admit it.”

Sergiu didn’t even try to force back his own grin at Dimyan’s ramblings, it was hard for him to force back any emotion when he’s intoxicated (though of the two, Sergiu seemed to be the more sober one if just slightly) “I think that you are scarier than him,” Sergiu said.

Dimyan raises his eyebrows “hm! You think that I am scary?” He was surprised at this revolation.

Sergiu waved his hands in front of himself in protest “my word choice is poor,” he scratched at his cheek, thinking, then held up his pointer finger when he found his correction “you are much more blunt!” he said with strange pride in his words “he is the one who should be - and perhaps he is - intimidated of  _ you _ , dear Dimyan,” then he placed his reassuring hand on Dimyan’s shoulder after saying such a surprising sentence “but I love that about you, comrade, you are not afraid to speak mind. It is admirable,”

A smile slowly creeped onto Dimyan’s lips, he placed his own hand atop Sergiu’s which was resting on his shoulder “thank you, comrade,” he softly and genuinely said.

Sergiu felt his own heart skip a beat, his flushed face grew somehow even warmer at this sudden sweetness “o-of course, Dimyan, it is the truth!”


	6. CH 6: APPROVE MY VISA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter but a sweet one.
> 
> CW:   
\- Alcohol mention  
\- Hangover

Very luckily for the two Arsotskans, the next day was quite uneventful. It was lucky for them because the two had drank way too much the previous night and a strong hangover is not exactly a great recipe for a sharpshooter.

Dimyan had never gotten a hangover before, due to his height he typically hardly consumed any alcohol before he got drunk enough for him to be satisfied. He guessed that last night he was just absentmindedly drinking while speaking to Sergiu and hadn’t noticed just how much he was consuming.

“Next,” Dimyan said into the speaker, throughout the day his exhaustion had been evident to everyone at the checkpoint due to his sluggish tone of voice.

Just as the person walked in, the end-of-shift alarm rang out.

Figures.

Dimyan absentmindedly let out an annoyed sigh before saying “papers, please,”

The person slid the papers through the paper slot, a single passport and what seemed to be a folded up note on blue paper.

Dimyan took the note curiously, not bothering with the passport at first, and read it…

_ YOU ARE HOT LIKE FIRE _

_ OBJECT OF DESIRE _

_ WRAP MY HEART IN WIRE _

_ APPROVE MY VISA _

Dimyan stamped the passport with his red stamp “you do not have entry permit,”

“Aw,” the person walked out of the checkpoint, defeated “but I gave you the note and everything,”

Dimyan stepped out of his office, then immediately leaned on the wall of the outside of the building as he stood up way too fast.

Sergiu was also leaning on the wall, staring into the distance, his foot was propped up on the wall and his hands in his pockets “how was your day,” he asked, his voice was quiet and tired.

“Look at this!” Dimyan exclaimed, shoving the blue note into Sergiu’s arm. He was not amused with the note, thinking it a mockery of his job position, so much so that he absolutely wanted to share his frustrations with Sergiu.

Sergiu winced at Dimyan’s sudden loud tone, nonetheless he took the blue note in his large hand and read it.

His eyes slowly lit up and his cheeks began to flush while he read. Dimyan crossed his arms across his chest and stared at the ground.

Sergiu got to the last page and began to laugh hysterically.

Dimyan shot a glare at him “what, you think it is funny?”

Sergiu’s laughter died down, he wiped a tear from his eye “I am sorry, Dimyan, I just think it is very sweet of you to write this for me! Though, _you_ are the one who accepts or denies visas…”

“Wh-what?!” Dimyan clenched his teeth “I didn’t write it, I got it from immigrant trying to bribe me!”

Sergiu tried to hold in a chuckle “well, thank you for showing me anyway, it was something I think I needed to read today,” 

Dimyan could hardly stay mad at that smile and to think he indirectly made Sergiu’s day warmed him up inside. His body softened, no matter how angry his stubborn mind wanted him to be “...you are welcome,”

Sergiu, now with much lighter spirits, placed his hand on Dimyan’s shoulder as the two men walked down the checkpoint “perhaps next time _you_ can write one for me,” Sergiu said jokingly, laughing and patting Dimyan on the back.


	7. CH 7: INSPIRATIONLESS PASSION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No CW for this chapter, enjoy!

Dimyan unlocked the door to his flat. The floors were of cold concrete, a small bed sat in one corner and a wooden desk and chair with a cheap lamp sat in the other corner. It was very cramped, as these objects took up about 90% of the floor space. 

This didn’t dim Dimyan’s spirits, though, he was still happy and grateful to have made Sergiu’s day today. Though the work day was long, his interactions with Sergiu made it all worth it.

Dimyan lightly shut his door, sat on his bed (which was just a few steps forward from the entrance) and took off his shoes.

He began to think about what Sergiu had said, about writing him a note. He knew Sergiu said it in jest but...wouldn’t it be a sweet thing to do?

Dimyan shakes his head and scrunches his nose. No, it would be dumb and laughable. Since when did Dimyan ever do anything like that for anyone, anyway?

Both of his shoes fell to the floor. He folded his hands in his lap, staring down at them.

_ Sergiu is not just anyone, though. _ He thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dimyan had been staring at a blank sheet of paper for what seemed like hours, hovering his pen over it.

“My god…” he irritably murmured to himself.

He was sitting at his desk in his pajamas, a pile of crumpled paper sat beside his writing arm.

This was all so idiotic, he was never good at writing. The only artsy thing he had ever done in his life was drawing when he was a teenager.

He was too scared to do that, even for Sergiu.

The uninspired artist glanced at the clock on his wall and groaned loudly at the sight of it, pinching the bridge of his nose. He needed to get rest soon or he would be beyond exhausted tomorrow.

He ran his hand through his curly hair, taking a deep breath. He was overthinking this, he just had to either slap something together or forget about Sergiu’s rhetorical request and go to sleep.


	8. CH 8: SERGIU INTERLUDE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
\- War mention  
\- Terrorist mention  
\- Alcohol mention

The living space provided by the M.O.L. for Sergiu was slightly better than Dimyan’s.

Just slightly.

In that there was actually room to walk around it, but there wasn’t much else in terms of furniture. Sergiu didn’t mind, as long as it had a place to sleep it was fine with him.

Sergiu laid down in bed, staring at the ceiling. Light from a candle on his nightstand flickered onto his contemplative face.

He had been laying in bed like this last night too, his thoughts were a lot less clear and more muddled by intoxication, but tonight he wasn’t drunk. He made sure he wouldn’t be just for this moment, laying in bed, thinking about the thought that his subconscious had presented to him last night.

It was about his attraction towards Dimyan.

The two have known each other for about a month now, Sergiu considers him a great friend...but ever since last night he couldn't shake this feeling that maybe he felt an even deeper connection with Dimyan.

Sergiu turned over on his side, he watched the delicate flame of the lit candle dance in the near stagnant air of the room.

He sighed sleepily and worriedly. He didn’t know what to do.

Sergiu was always the type of person to keep to himself in the name of politeness, though some thoughts, especially ones having to do with love, ceaselessly clawed at his brain until they became verbal. He feared that his seemingly romantic attraction towards Dimyan would be one of those thoughts.

He turns on his other side, staring into the vague dark shapes that are his scarce amount of furniture in the west side of his room.

Did he really love Dimyan in that way, though? Or was this some sort of strong connection he had due to them being nearly in the same situation as one another? He remembered feeling a strong bond with his fellow soldiers back in the Kolchian war…

He shook his head and turned his body so that he was laying on his back.

The connection he felt with his comrades in the war wasn’t like how he felt about Dimyan at all. He admired the soldiers for their skills, Dimyan was way beyond having his worth being determined by skill - at least to Sergiu - and besides, Sergiu didn’t even know what skills Dimyan had.

Maybe his skill laid in stamping papers…and shooting terrorists...or even drinking vodka with ease.

That was beside the point, though. Dimyan was blunt, honest, yet has a shy demeanor about him despite all that, and best of all a truly warm heart. Sergiu loved that more than anything, despite layers of anger and seriousness, Dimyan still managed to have a kind heart.

Sergiu released a shaky breath through his mouth.

“My god…” he pensively murmured to himself.

He could hardly believe it, how just thinking about another man could cause his breath to tremble.

_ Though...Dimyan is not just another man. _ Sergiu thought.

He looked at the clock on his wall (his eyes had adjusted to the darkness) and came to the conclusion that he had thought about enough tonight. His feelings were obvious, but at this hour he was better off sleeping than trying to figure out what to do with such complex yet clear emotions towards his co-worker.


	9. CH: 9 DIMYAN'S SKILL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I did write 3 chapters in a row at 1am last night, thank you for noticing
> 
> I don't think there's any CW in this chapter

“Sergiu!” Dimyan shouted over at the guards, waving a crumpled up, folded piece of paper in his right hand.

The other guards alertly looked over, then they looked away once they saw it was just the inspector.

Sergiu walked over to Dimyan with his hands in his pockets, his face was neutral but his heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of his friend.

“Good morning Dimyan,” Sergiu greeted once he was at an appropriate distance for talking rather than yelling across the checkpoint at 6am.

“I…” Dimyan felt like an idiot, like a little schoolboy giving his crush a love letter. It was like fate itself was patronizing him.

“What is that in your hand?” Sergiu suddenly gasped and his face lit up “did you actually write me something?!”

“No…” Dimyan said. A beat of silence passed before Dimyan let out a stiff, mechanical laugh, as if what Sergiu asked was a ridiculous thing for him to even consider the thought of.

“Ah...I see,” Sergiu smiled sheepishly, he felt embarrassed and cleared his throat “is it for work, then?”

“Take it,” Dimyan shoved the paper into Sergiu’s chest. His face was flushed red.

Dimyan had no idea why he felt the need to do this. Perhaps it was out of some odd compulsion, a thought that his brain just insisted him to carry out. Or maybe it was the need to see Sergiu smile again? Though, to Dimyan, this was a very risky way to do such a thing.

Sergiu gingerly took the paper off of his chest and out of Dimyan’s sweaty hands. He unfolded it to gaze at its contents.

It seemed to be a sketch of Sergiu in pen, with Dimyan’s first initial. It was a simple sketch, yet very flattering, spotlighting Sergiu’s more conventionally attractive traits. 

“Dimyan…”

“You hate it, I know you do,” Dimyan clutched his own sleeves so tightly that if he had used any more strength he would have ripped holes in them “I am...I do not know why I...I should not have-”

“Dimyan!” 

Dimyan looked up at Sergiu with wide, glossy eyes. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard him raise his voice before.

“Dimyan, this is the nicest and the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me,” His voice was shaky, as if Dimyan wasn’t the only one holding back tears.

“What?”

Sergiu wiped his face and laughed sweetly. He tilted his head at the drawing as if there were some hidden message within it “if I had an office like you I would surely hang this up,” he grinned, his cheeks red with pure happiness.

Dimyan slowly uncrossed his arms and blinked a tear out of his eye “do you mean that?”

“Yes, of course! You seem to be a very talented artist - and I am not just saying that because it is a picture of myself,” the latter half of Sergiu’s sentence was sprinkled with a bit of playful smugness.

“Thank you,”

“Why are you thanking me-” before Sergiu could finish his sentence Dimyan had wrapped his arms around him in a warm embrace.

Art must’ve meant a lot to Dimyan, he’s never seen him this emotional, it was almost uncharacteristic. The sensitivity Dimyan displayed towards Sergiu giving him this humble sketch made this gift all the more priceless to Sergiu. He hugged Dimyan back, holding him close “I love…” Sergiu whispered “I love the drawing, Dimyan. Thank you,”


	10. CH 10: BAR BREAK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've come to the decision that I think I want to stop doing the CW before each chapter.
> 
> No one else really does it and I don't think anyone really cares?? If you do, feel free to leave a comment telling me you want them back (I can have the comment be anonymous since I have to approve of comments before they're posted).
> 
> Also the drawing at the end of this chapter is in a different style than usual! I might switch back to my Papers Please style but I just wanted to do a quick sketch in my own style to get the drawing done, I think it turned out pretty good.

After the whole emotional commotion that took place this morning and a long work day, it was time for the two Arstotzkan workers to have a well deserved break.

They both went over to the bar, the same bar that they both had gone to the other day. On the way there they were mostly quiet, small anecdotes about their days peppered the comfortable silence.

They both sat on the bar stools and ordered their drinks, and that was when the real conversation started.

“You are a very good artist, you know?” Sergiu said “I never quite expected you to be an artist, you surprised me a lot with your drawing!” a sweet smile curled on his lips “I like it a lot, Dimyan,”

Dimyan twisted his hat in his sweaty hands. Despite not even being served his alcohol yet he felt very warm “thank you, Sergiu,” he smiled. He really did appreciate the praise, throughout his life he hadn’t received much positivity when it came to his sketches.

To think an idiotic note from a person trying to get through the checkpoint without the proper papers sparked this entire reopening of an old passion. It felt nice, for the both of them.

The bartender set down the bottle of vodka and two glasses between the men, then walked off to tend the bar as his job title suggests.

“I do not think I could draw even a circle,” Sergiu chuckled.

Dimyan poured both of them a glass “a lot of people say that, but what I think is if you are passionate about wanting to do something, you should do it,” he downed his glass and roughly cleared his throat after, firmly pointing at his friend with the hand he was holding his glass in “Sergiu, if drawing is what you want to do, then go and do it, comrade,”

Sergiu blinked.

Then he laughed kindheartedly at his friend's encouragement, lifting his glass to his lips “I have never really considered it, but after hearing your words I think I am ready to make an entire painting!” he drank his vodka and gagged harshly at the stinging sensation sliding down his throat.

Dimyan couldn’t help but smirk “that is what you get for making fun of me,” he hummed.

“Oh, my friend,” after recovering from his sip, Sergiu reached his arm around Dimyan’s shoulder “I would not ever make fun of you, especially for your passions. I really do mean it, what you said was inspiring,”

“You are very sappy, Sergiu,” Dimyan said.

Sergiu looked down to see a wide smile plastered on Dimyan’s face.

Dimyan softly pat Sergiu’s hand on his shoulder “still, thank you,” Dimyan silently wished that Sergiu had been in his life earlier, maybe things could’ve been better for him. But he’s very grateful that he has Sergiu now, to make the present better.

Sergiu sighed, perhaps longingly, or perhaps satisfied at the sight of Dimyan’s smile, or maybe a bit of both. He slipped his arm off of Dimyan and returned it to his glass “of course, my friend,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sergiu and Dimyan both stumbled side by side through the cold streets, blanketed by the darkness of the night and the dim street lights. The two men were drunk as sailors.

Sergiu was in the midst of talking about work “...my legs do not exactly tire easily but my heart does these days,” he nodded at his own artsy statement “I am honestly grateful for when days are boring, because then I can live to see another day! Even if...that day is also boring,”

Dimyan made an incomprehensible noise that was meant to be a sentence.

“What was that?” Sergiu asked.

“Do not-- let us-- I do not want to talk about work, Sergiu, it is depressing,” he lazily waved his hand in protest “when I with you I supposed to be happy and not think about work,”

Sergiu let out an odd sounding laugh “I am very happy when I am with you too. You are very right, work is the last thing we should be-”

With razor sharp reflexes Sergiu caught Dimyan by his arm before he fell to the sidewalk, it seemed he nearly tripped on a stray crack or litter.

Sergiu gingerly raised Dimyan up by the elbow of his sleeve, not letting go “are you okay, Dimyan?”

“Y-yes, thank you for...catching me,” Dimyan stammered.

Sergiu clutched the fabric of Dimyan’s coat, which he noted was his winter coat that he had given to Dimyan. Both of them faced each other, Sergiu leaning slightly forward towards Dimyan, looking down at him. Dimyan’s feet were in an awkward position on the concrete. It was as if time had froze. They stared at each other. Unmoving. For what seemed like a handful of minutes.

“Erh…” Dimyan’s pupils darted away from Sergiu, he wasn’t sure why the two of them had just stopped in the middle of the sidewalk like this “we should...get moving now,”

Sergiu, as if it were by some instinct, slowly slid his hand up Dimyan’s arm and cupped Dimyan’s warm cheek in his glove. His heart pounded in his chest “yes...I think we should,”

Dimyan’s heart beat hard, his face tensed up at Sergiu’s touch. He loved how it felt, he only wished Sergiu’s hand wasn’t gloved so that he could feel Sergiu’s skin touching his. Dimyan placed his hand atop Sergiu’s.

The two drunkards then walked down the sidewalk, Sergiu keeping his hand cupped on Dimyan’s cheek and Dimyan holding Sergiu’s hand close to his face.


End file.
